Four Seasons, One Love
by Nordyr
Summary: [AU - Modern Setting] Four seasons of Clarke and Lexa cuteness.
1. Spring

**Chapter 1: Spring** (Clarke's PoV)

* * *

She brings me flowers.

They're white and yellow, and a dozen different shades of red and I spend my afternoons finding the right mixture of colors to paint them. She watches me quietly from behind the book she's reading and pretends I don't catch her staring at me whenever our eyes meet.

The sun shines through the large window and I find myself realizing these are the most peaceful moments I could wish for. My teeth finally let go of my lower lip as I take a breath and release the paintbrush from my fingers. I scan my eyes over the canvas and wonder if it could ever do justice to the actual beauty of the petals in front of me, to the way she smiles when she holds the flower to her nose and breathes in deeply, to the way she kisses me when she comes home and presses a new one into my hands.

She comes up behind me and whispers that my creation holds more beauty than the flower does.

(And I blush, because she really likes her flowers.)

* * *

Some mornings, I wake up with her cheek on my shoulder and her dark hair covering my chest. Her breathing is peaceful and I run my hands over the smooth skin of her bare spine, until she stirs and tightens her hold on my middle. I press a kiss to the top of her head and enjoy the warm feeling of her bare skin against mine. She breathes in and I wonder if this is what it's like to be connected to someone's soul.

* * *

There's a fresh scent of pleasant coolness in the air, something that signals the new beginning of everything I cannot name. The birds are chirping excitedly, and when we step outside the sweet smell of spring invades our lungs. The sky is a stormy color of blue, littered with white clouds and on the edge of change.

The day feels like the beginning of a movie, the euphoric bliss that precedes or follows after the storm. I squeeze her soft hand and only hope that it's neither of those, but simply a fragile reality between the two of us.

She takes me out to random places, tells me there's a new beauty everywhere at the start of the season.

(I look at her and I know she's right.)

* * *

The days get warmer and one day she's wearing shorts for the first time this year. She walks out the front door and I follow slowly behind her, roaming my eyes over her long, bare legs. They're beautiful and she walks elegantly like the world was made just for her to set foot on. I can't help but consider all the positions I've had those legs in, and there's a fluttering in my stomach. She turns around, teasingly annoyed and with a smile on her face.

"Clarke," she says, and it sends a hot chill through my spine. "It's not fair when you can see me but I can't see you."

I bite my lip in a smile and fall in step beside her. She entwines our hands and presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth.

"Better," she mumbles with a careful smile.

The trees bloom and the birds fly around excitedly. Kids ride their bikes to school and the world is far from quiet. When the sunshine falls over her face at the perfect angle, I hold my breath at the sight and wonder if I could ever capture the image on paper. She gives me a soft look and I smile breathlessly.

* * *

She kisses me under the cherry blossoms one day and I smile, because these moments mean everything to me. The white and pink shades of the trees around us stand in perfect contrast with her bright green eyes and I kiss her again because I can't explain the way it feels.

I feel her breath tremble against my lips.

* * *

It's late one afternoon when the sky darkens and drops of water fall against our window, leaving trails where they travel down to meet the ground. At the first sounds of the rain against the glass, she closes her laptop. She stands up to look out of the window and for a moment I just quietly observe her with the same intensity she observes the garden.

There's a smile on her face when she walks up to me, circles her arms around me and tugs me towards the bedroom. Once again she lingers in front of our window but then pulls me down to lie beside her on the bed. Her eyes are wide and she's quiet, breathing softly though her parted lips and I wonder if she can feel the same warmth in her chest that I feel when I look at her. She turns her head and her bright eyes stay glued to mine, her hand fumbling with my fingers until I entwine them.

I smile at the softness in her eyes, as green as the fresh leaves outside and sparkling with the reflection of heaven's tears.

She's warm beside me and all in existence is the two of us as we silently listen to the drops that fall against the window.

The rain crashes down -

And she's beautiful.


	2. Summer

**Chapter 2: Summer** (Lexa's PoV)

* * *

She sits down on the blue towel that she undoubtedly stole from our hotel room (probably unintentionally) and I find myself thinking the color fits her perfectly - it goes well with her eyes. She glances towards the water and I try to catch a look of them as if I need a reminder of what color they are. (It's appreciation.)

I drop the exceptionally well-filled bag of snacks down next to her. She insisted we ought to bring half of our food storage and then also decided to raid the shelves of the small supermarket we passed.

"In case we get hungry."

She smiles, eyes squinted against the sun, as I sit down next to her and stretch my bare legs out in front of me. She runs a finger over the exposed skin and I shiver. A small comment about their smoothness, an inquire about shaving them, and I smile when I nod in confirmation.

It isn't too busy; a few couples here and there and some children playing near the waterline, building large sandcastles. Her eyes drift over to them, and I wonder silently if it's something she longs for; something that I could never give her.

I wriggle my toes into the sand, feeling the grains between them. She turns to me and smiles once again (or perhaps it had never disappeared) and the heat from the sun seems to increase tenfold, causing my cheeks to feel on fire.

Seagulls fly above us, screeching excitedly over a dropped French fry. She lifts her head to look at them, sun streaming down on her face and making her blonde hair seem even lighter. She laughs, and I laugh too; not at the birds, but in joy of being here with her.

We lie in the sun, breathe in the salty smell of the water and the sweet scent of summer. It's warm and it's beautiful and I find myself wishing she could lie next to me like this forever as her fingers slowly brush over the side of my arm.

After a while, she presses a kiss to my jaw and grabs my hand, pulling me towards the shore and into the water until we're waist-deep and the soft waves crash against our bodies. The water feels pleasantly cool, and my uncovered shoulders burn from the heat of the sun. Every now and then she dives underwater, soaking her light hair into a deeper shade of blonde and leaving small drops of water to roll down the glistening skin of her neck.

My eyes shut against the bright sky as I float onto my back, and she holds my hand to keep me close when she mirrors the position. The heat of the sun makes it look red behind my eyes. We float, and the only thing keeping me to this world is her hand in mine. I breathe in deeply and wonder if this is what it'd be like to drift on the clouds with her.

Unexpectedly, she splashes water into my face and laughs, and it's a beautiful sound. Tangled in each other's arms, we both fall down into the dark blue ocean, caught in a childish game of teasing.

I'm grinning when we come back up to the surface, finding my footing once more as she pulls me closer against her. For the shortest moment, her eyes drift off to something on the shoreline, and I turn my head to follow her gaze. It's a boy, a well-muscled young man, walking over the sand in his swimming trunks, and the familiar ache in my heart makes me wonder if I could ever be enough for her.

Her hand comes up to the side of my face and pulls my gaze back to her, and I'm not quite sure if her eyes had even been following the boy or had merely skimmed over him without interest.

It matters not, I realize.

There's bright blue staring at me and I swear I can see the movement of the waves reflecting in them.

Her thumb strokes across my cheekbone, her whisper only loud enough to surpass the familiar sounds of summer.

"I love you, Lexa."

And I find myself thinking, _I love you too._

 _I love you too._


	3. Fall

**Chapter 3: Fall** (Lexa's PoV)

* * *

The leaves turn yellow, red, and eventually brown and her paintings take on a hundred new shades of color. I come home to find her with a pencil in her hand and realize the signs of dying trees inspire her, although I keep those specific words to myself. She smiles when her eyes move up from the paper to meet mine, and when I kiss her, she tastes of cinnamon and chocolate.

It sends a warm wave through my chest and I kiss her again.

She puts her sketchbook to the side and presses her hands over my cold ears.

"You're freezing," she says, and I'm not (there's only a slight chill outside) but I don't object because she pulls me onto the couch and into her arms. Her cheek feels warm against my forehead.

"It's not that cold outside," I mumble against her. "We could go for a walk."

"But…it's cold," she answers, and I sit up to see her face scrunched up into something close to a pout. It makes me chuckle and I press my lips against hers.

"We can take a shower when we get back to get warm again," I whisper against her mouth and apparently that's all it takes to persuade her.

* * *

We walk through the forest and her earlier reluctance seems to have disappeared completely. She raises her head to look at the warm colors surrounding us, and there's a level of appreciation in her gaze that I could never completely comprehend.

It makes her radiate, locks of blonde hair waving in the occasional gust of wind, blue eyes shining against the brown of the forest floor, and her lips tugged in a smile.

I look at her and it takes my breath away, and I wonder if it's the same thing she's feeling as her eyes roam the colors of the forest.

But she's an artist; she appreciates the shades of orange on the leaves that fall to the ground, she recognizes the way the branches move in the wind, and she's probably already thinking about how to replicate them on a canvas.

She's an artist, and yet I feel like I know beauty when I look at her.

The fresh air burns coldly through my nose and into my lungs, but I hold her hand in mine and it keeps us both warm. The leaves crunch under our feet and I'm vaguely aware of the fact that we're outside, but my mind feels clouded in peacefulness, blinded by the realization of having her next to me. We talk of trivial things and my breath catches whenever I make her laugh.

"Come on," I say after a while, pressing a kiss to her cold cheek. "Let's go home."

* * *

Later that day she tugs me into the shower. A hint of the cold remains on her skin as she presses her body against mine, and I close my eyes at the blissful feeling. The warm water crashes over us, sliding into all the curves and creases it can reach, and the way her eyes sparkle makes me lose all sense of time. She brushes the side of her face against mine and I lean down to kiss her neck gently. Her arms circle around me and somewhere in between the steady fall of water and our embrace, she whispers,

"Fall is the embodiment of your beauty."

And I whisper I love her.

* * *

When she climbs into bed next to me that evening, bare feet padding over the floor and only wearing an oversized T-shirt, I am already warm under my side of the covers. She kisses my cheek, moving her lips along my jaw and eventually my neck as she buries her face into its crook and snuggles her body close to mine. Her cold, bare feet press against my calves like two blocks of ice and I let her.

"For body heat," she mumbles. "We gotta keep each other warm when it gets colder at night." I smile at her explanation and hum softly. She sighs contently when my arms move around her and I silently hope that sleep won't find me tonight.

Her breathing reflects off my neck and all I want is to hold her like this, forever.


	4. Winter

**Chapter 4: Winter** (Clarke's PoV)

* * *

She wakes me up one morning, eyes brighter than usual. I hear her whispering my name excitedly, eager to pull me from sleep but not willing to startle me. I open my eyes reluctantly and find the covers on her side of the bed pulled back, causing the cool air to caress spots of my skin where it lies exposed. Her pillow is empty and I roll over, tugging the bed sheets with me, to find her sitting on my side of the bed.

"There's snow," she whispers with wide eyes and a grin. I watch her stand up and walk to the window where the curtains let through a brighter kind of light than usual.

"Lexa," I groan. "What time is it?"

She mumbles the numbers on the alarm clock, and I sigh.

"Come on," she says, oblivious to my suffering. "Let's go outside."

I reluctantly comply and pull on a pair of pajama pants, following her out of the bedroom. She's sprinting to pull on her boots and I shuffle after her.

The excitement on her face makes me smile a bit, and suddenly I don't find myself bothered anymore by the fact that she pulled me out of bed.

Never mind that it's a Sunday morning.

She opens the front door, and I quickly grab a jacket as the cool air hits us. She doesn't seem bothered by it, though. Her feet crunch over the fresh, untouched snow as she slowly walks across the front lawn, decorating it with careful footprints. I stand in the doorway for a while, reluctant to go out in the cold. But she turns around and looks at me, eyes wide of wonder and a smile on her lips.

She spreads her arms and slowly turns, eyes on the white sky as small snowflakes softly fall down and nestle themselves into her dark locks. I chuckle at her childish wonderment and step outside anyway. Her arms are warm, and I nuzzle myself into her neck to borrow the warmth of her body heat.

Her shoulders shake a little as she laughs, and it's a laugh full of joy and happiness. It warms my heart to hear the uncommon sound, and I kiss her cheek lovingly because all I ever want for her is to be happy.

* * *

That evening, after dinner, she convinces me to go for a walk. The sky is already dark and the air filled with the clouds of our breathing. We walk through streets lined with houses. Soft light illuminates the rooms behind their windows, and the sidewalk is covered with tracks of people who have left their footprints.

I look up at the sky, somewhere in between two lampposts so the light doesn't block my view, and I almost lose my breath at the sight of the bright stars. I look back at the girl next to me to find her staring at me with affection in her eyes, and that's what does completely take my breath away.

She leads us to a nearby park and I marvel at the warmth of her hand in mine. The grass is covered with an untouched layer of snow and I tug her excitedly off the path. The look she gives me is the same one she always gives me when she pretends to be opposed to whatever childish idea I have but ends up secretly enjoying it anyway.

We fall down into the white layer of snow, and my shiver is accompanied by a chuckle when some of it finds its way into my collar, chilling the back of my neck. I glance over at her when she lays down beside me, hand still in mine and eyes twinkling with the moon's reflection.

She chuckles when I start flaring my legs and free arm around, and I jokingly scold her and tell her to do the same. She relents, but her movements are steady and more precise than mine and I don't know what else I was expecting. I smile at her, feeling warmth settle in my stomach, because even the snow angels she makes are so very much _her_.

I pull her up carefully and smile broadly at our creation. I turn to catch her eyes, and they are peaceful in a way that I barely ever see. She mumbles something about how tragic it is that the snow will disappear and our handholding snow angels will melt away. I squeeze her hand, because it's true and she's right. The snow will melt away and the streets will turn grey again and I wonder if the joy in her eyes will melt away with it.

I will draw her our snow creation later, I promise myself. Perhaps that way it won't melt from her memory, at least.

It starts to snow again, but the cold doesn't bother me as she wraps her arms around me. I rest our foreheads together and she whispers how thankful she is to share these moments with me. I can only answer that I wouldn't have it any other way.

She brushes our noses together and I smile.

"Do you think our lips will freeze together if we kiss in the cold?" I ask her, chuckling softly, and she merely says, "Perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad thing, though."

I smile softly and press my mouth against her warm lips, and suddenly the cold doesn't bother me anymore.

She makes me feel warm inside.


End file.
